I wandered lonely as a cloud
Through fields of fridges
White and loud
Past gas cylinders
Torn and spent
Wrecks of white
Broke and bent
I wandered on and I didst see
A host of gladioli I didst think
But no to my dismay
Twas more fridges of decay
Fields of fridges
White White White
Fields of fridges
Oh what a sight
I wandred lonely as a cloud
Through fields of fridges
Standing proud
10,000 I saw at a glance
Swinging their doors
In sprightly dance
Beside the lake
Beneath the trees
Doors a glistening
In the breeze
And oft when I on couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood
I think back to that summer's day
and then my heart with sadness thinks
Where O' Wordsworth
Were the daffodils ?